


Are You Jealous?

by darkforetold



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Coming Untouched, Jealousy, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking, Mildly Dubious Consent, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, Prostate Massage, Prostate Orgasm, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 01:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkforetold/pseuds/darkforetold
Summary: Eddie gets fucked during his and Anne's "just friends" dinner date. Literally.I’m going to make you suffer, Eddie. You’re going to beg me to stop.His ass instinctively clenched around the intrusion, which made the sensation double in strength. He cleared his throat aggressively, and Anne frowned at him. He couldn’t decide whether to get the hell out of there, or insult Venom until he creamed his pants.“Are you okay? You’re acting a little weird.”





	Are You Jealous?

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation from [No Secrets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16319846), but can be read as a stand alone too.

Eddie stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting his tie, smoothing down his dark blue dinner jacket. He’d shaved, slicked his hair to one side, and even put on cologne. Its spicy, dark undertones tickled his nose, and somehow, he felt more powerful, daring. 

**We look good, Eddie.**

“Yeah, not bad.”

He adjusted the cuffs, then fussed with his hair a little more. A lint roller was taken to his sleeves, his pants, once, twice, just to make sure everything was perfect. He had to be presentable for her, couldn’t bear to embarrass her again. Maybe she’d even see him in a new light. The “put-together” Eddie, the Eddie that wasn’t a monumental fuck-up. Maybe she’d grow to like him again, and maybe—

A flash of _something_ crackled up his spine. A disconnected feeling. Not his then, but Venom’s. It sizzled quietly in his gut, yet felt stone heavy. Poised, like whatever Venom was feeling could erupt.

Feeling vindictive, Eddie lit the fuse.

“Do you think Anne will like the new me?”

That sizzle detonated, blasting a metaphoric hole through his stomach lining. He wanted to strangle Anne, wrap his black tentacles around her throat and _squeeze_. Kill her, so she’d never touch his Eddie again.

His, his, _his_.

Wait—

“Wait.” Eddie stared at the mirror. “Are you _jealous_?”

**No.**

“You’re jealous—of _Anne_?” Eddie narrowed his eyes. “You know it’s just dinner. She specifically said we’re just friends.”

**Tell yourself that.**

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Silence.

Eddie clenched his teeth, buttoned and unbuttoned the top one on his crisp white shirt. The awkward silence stretched on, weighing heavy on the air, and Venom stirred under his skin.

**You seem tense.**

“Nervous, I guess.”

**Let me fix it.**

Before he could say anything, black inky tendrils sprouted from his stomach, reaching lower, lower— Eddie jerked back from the mirror, nearly stumbling over himself. “No!”

**No?**

The dark formations disappeared altogether.

**Why no?**

“Just… no.”

**What is—**

“Enough! I said no.”

Eddie stumbled back again, assaulted by a wave of— _everything_. The pain of rejection clawed at his insides, hollowed out then filled itself back up with the emptiness of sadness—then rage. So much fucking rage. He quaked with it, muscles bulging then snapping back to regular size, his skin darkening, corroded with veins.

He wanted to destroy something. Kill someone. Eat them alive.

“Venom… s-stop it.” His voice sounded like Venom’s, thick and monstrous. 

They were fighting for control over their body.

**Then tell me what’s wrong.**

“Can we not—“ Eddie growled, struggling against his rising fist. “—do this right now?”

Together, they roared and crashed a punch into the mirror, shattering glass, splintering wood. The rage they—  
_Venom_ —had felt lessened a few degrees, didn’t feel so urgent anymore or deadly. Not at all explosive. Like a child had just thrown a tantrum and was now playing peacefully in a corner.

Thousands of Eddies reflected in broken shards stared at him. No rows of teeth. Not a hulking mass of muscle. Just Eddie, among pieces of glass and wood.

“Feel better?”

**Yes.**

“Fantastic. After this _not-a-date_ , we’re going to talk about your anger problems. Okay?” Eddie waited for an answer, and after a full five seconds of not hearing anything— “ _Okay?_ ”

**Fine.**

Eddie let out a little huff, grabbed his—

**Are you ashamed of us?**

_Us_ had a different lilt to it. Intimate, suggestive. Not the _us_ when they ate together, not the _us_ when Venom referred to them as one entity. It was the _us_ under the sheets, with Venom so deep inside him, so perfectly made for him and him alone, that Eddie ached for it every goddamn moment of his goddamn life.

But he still felt shame. It echoed against his ribcage when it was dark and quiet. It followed him like a ghost through his waking hours, clung to him in his dreams. 

He was fucking an alien. He had a right to feel shameful.

Right?

“We’ll talk about it later.” 

He put on his jacket and left.

:::

It was a French restaurant with a name he couldn’t pronounce. Crystal chandeliers judged him from high ceilings while linens (more expensive than his bed sheets) lounged and draped over tables. Silverware gleamed in intimate lighting, and fresh-cut flowers suffered in delicate vases. Hushed whispers danced along the immaculate wood walls, clean floors. He breathed in cultured air, thick with perfumes and colognes, and immediately felt… _other_. A fraud dressed in a suit.

After a few suspicious looks and a little convincing, the maître d' led him into main dining room. Anne stood out in a sea of black and white, her dress red as sin and her blonde hair trussed up. Her flush lips pouted as she studied her phone, and as he got closer, he was reminded how stunning she truly was. How he’d forgotten, he didn’t know. She’d always been the most beautiful woman in every room.

Jealousy arced up his body. Eddie frowned. He’d almost forgotten he wasn’t alone.

“Hey, listen up. She doesn’t know you’re alive, remember? So, don’t do anything stupid, alri—hey, Anne!”

Anne smiled up at him, warm like sunshine. “Hey, Eddie. Wow. You clean up nice.”

“Thanks. You look… absolutely amazing.”

She looked down at herself, then waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I just threw this on.” A blush kissed her cheeks, and he couldn’t help but stare at her. The plunging neckline dragged his sight down to her neck, and right in that moment, all he wanted to do was—

Eat her fucking heart out. Her spleen. Her smart, delicious brain.

Eddie plastered on a smile and sat down, absently picking up the menu. “French?”

“Yeah, I heard it had good reviews. Thought we’d try it since… well, I’m sure you remember.“

He looked around. “Not gonna lie, I’m pretty glad they don’t have a lobster tank.”

Anne hid a little laugh behind her hand. That’d always been one of his favorite things: making her laugh. And it sounded just as rich as—

Her liver would taste.

Eddie picked up the expensive, cloth napkin and coughed. “You fucker.”

“What?” Anne asked.

“Sorry.” Eddie coughed again. “Think I’m coming down with something.”

“Really? Oh, you poor thing,” she said, then did the worst thing she could possibly do: she touched his hand.

**Mine.**

His fingers jerked toward the knife, the tips brushing against cold metal— Eddie did everything he could to keep himself from grabbing it, bringing it to bear and cutting her pretty throat. They fought while Anne read over the menu, chattering on about their selection of wines. Saying something about veal. Venom got distracted, let go, and Eddie seized the moment to regain control and banish Venom to the back of his brain.

Except the stubborn shit wouldn’t _go_.

“Oh, I forgot to ask: how’s your toe?” Confusion must’ve been written on his face because… “I called you the other night and you said you’d stubbed your toe, remember? Doing some sort of project?”

“ _Oh_ , yeah. That’s right. It’s fine.” Eddie put the napkin in his lap. Smiled. “So, what’s all this? Dinner?”

“This? It’s just… you know.” Anne smiled, then leaned in to whisper, “I just wanted to see how you were doing after…” She exhaled a breath. “Losing _him_.”

“Who?”

She frowned and mouthed _Venom_.

His gut boiled. Insulted that he’d forgotten. Hurt. Angry. None of those emotions were his. He almost couldn’t feel anything that belonged to him and him alone—except one.

Vindictiveness.

“Yeah, I don’t miss him.” Eddie reached out and touched her hand. “I’m glad it’s just us.”

A sickly chill covered his whole body. Dread, massive and harrowing, carved him out. Whatever was coming would be vengeful, absolute. He wondered if this was what it felt like seconds before the bombs dropped.

He should’ve apologized right then and there. Explained that he was still feeling shame about _them_. Instead, he swept a thumb over her knuckles. Daring him. 

Something _slippery_ darted inside the most intimate part of him, slick and determined.

—and his regret was so crisp and clear and solely his own that it took his breath away. 

“That’s… surprising. I thought you liked him,” she said, slipping her hand out from under his.

That something grew larger and stretched him wide, solidifying.

_Vibrating_.

Eddie choked on a gasp, whipping the napkin up to his face. Faking a cough, anything to cover up his shock, to brace himself against the first wave of—whatever the fuck was going on. It wasn’t strong, but _there_. Vibrating in his ass like some siren’s song to his cock. His dick thickened in his nice slacks, and Eddie silently cursed it for being such a fucking traitor. Cursed Venom, too, for—

He wiped the napkin down his face. “Liked him? That _parasite_?”

**I’m going to make you suffer, Eddie. You’re going to beg me to stop.**

His ass instinctively clenched around the intrusion, which made the sensation double in strength. He cleared his throat aggressively, and Anne frowned at him. He couldn’t decide whether to get the hell out of there, or insult Venom until he creamed his pants.

“Are you okay? You’re acting a little weird.”

“You know what? I _am_ acting a little weird. Maybe— _God_.” Eddie weathered another hit of vibrations. His cock was rock hard. “Maybe this… dinner thing isn’t such a—good idea, huh? I should go.”

“But you just got here.”

**Yes. Stay.**

Just as he was about to stand, black bands shackled his ankles, wrapped his calves and thighs and melded them to his chair. Eddie tested the restraints. He couldn’t move. A prisoner to whatever fucked-up game Venom was playing, with Anne as the innocent bystander. The expensive, luxurious table linens their curtain to sin. 

“ _Hah_.” Eddie swallowed down a noise. “You’re right. I-I should stay.”

“Good.” Anne smiled and fluttered the menu. “I think I’m going to get the veal. What about you?” 

Eddie hadn’t even looked at the menu. Didn’t want to, not when his insides were vibrating like this, his ass greedy, clenching around the source. Needing it deeper, so much deeper. He couldn’t help but shift his hips to one side, just enough to test where the vibrations would hit. Shifting to the other side until—yes, _oh God_ , right there.

_Fuck_.

Venom took the bait, kicking it up a notch. 

The vibrations jolted him with its suddenness, with how fucking _good_ it made him feel. He didn’t want veal, or frog’s legs, or dinner. He wanted to be fucked until he couldn’t think anymore. Hammered into the wall so hard, so rough he’d feel it for _weeks_. But Anne was watching him with a frown on her face. Concerned, probably. Or maybe hoping he wouldn’t turn out to be a fuck-up after all. 

He wish he could just tell her he was still a fuck-up.

Instead, he smiled picked up the menu and looked. It was hard to focus with Venom drilling him like he was. His thighs felt like rubber, his dick harder than it’d ever been. He closed his eyes as another wave rocked his body, as his cock jumped in his pants and spilled precome. It took _every_ fiber of his being to stop himself from just—jacking off right here, in front of everyone.

“I’ll— I’ll have the vegetables.”

**Get the steak, Eddie.**

Eddie covered his mouth and mumbled, “ _Fuck you_.”

The vibrations went from a merciful twenty straight to a jaw-dropping sixty on the scale of _what the absolute fuck_. Eddie whipped his head back, clenched his hands, and screeched, “Oh my God! Would you look at that chandelier!” He bit his knuckles hard, strangling a groan in his throat. “ _Ngh_ —it’s so pretty.”

Anne leaned in and whispered harshly, “What is wrong with you?”

**Get. The. Steak.**

Eddie gripped the table and announced, “I think I’m gonna get the steak.”

“Tell me what’s going on _right now_.” 

“Nothing,” he hissed. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sweating,” Anne pointed out.

“Am I?” Eddie wiped his brow, pulling his fingers back clammy. “Look at that. Must be hot in here.”

Anne frowned. “Are we going to have another incident?”

Vibrations punched another hole in his ass. 

“Nope!”

Focusing became harder. His mind kept drifting to sex, sex, sex, to Venom bending him over this perfect, orderly table and fucking him rough, every thrust of his thick, massive cock ripping him apart. Slick and deep while everyone watched. _Fuck_ , he had to do something about his hard dick… 

Eddie plucked up the napkin from the table and dropped it in his lap. His hands slipped down to his hips, a palm brushing down his length. Two more times, maybe, and he’d get off. It’d be over, and he could—

On the second pass, something sharp pierced his skin. Eddie yelped and jerked his hand back.

**Mine.**

Across the table, Anne looked resigned, staring at him. Fed up. And why wouldn’t she be? With exasperation, she shot out, “Are you seeing someone?”

“What?”

“That mark on your neck. It looks like a hickey.”

His hands were shaking. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, lifted it and aimed it at his neck—in selfie mode, he could see a splotch of blues and mottled purples. “Huh. Look at that. Like someone claimed me. Wow." Anger flushed through his veins. "You know what, Anne. I'm glad you asked. I _was_ seeing someone—actually, not really. It was a one-night-stand. Just a one-night never-gonna-happen-again stand."

The vibrations shook his whole body, but he grit his teeth through it.

"It really made me realize how much I miss you. I—" His ass clenched hard around another devastating round. " _God_ , I just wish... fuck, I wish we were still together, you know?"

His voice cracked. His body began unraveling. He mustered up all his strength and willpower to say: “Remember that time we just—stayed in bed all day and just—fucked?”

Anne looked aghast. “What’s gotten into you, Eddie?”

Eddie jumped when the thing inside him _moved_. It sent out pulses, on-and-off vibrations like kinky sonar. Not moving deeper like he’d hoped, but—searching? The fuck. Shrinking, moving shallower, not filling him up completely like he wanted it to. Instead, it—stop, stop, stop. _Not there_. He had a sudden, intense urge to piss.

_There_ was exactly where it started vibrating again.

Eddie lurched forward and latched onto both sides of the table, knuckles turning white. He clenched his teeth to breaking, and his dick—it began to flag, soften completely, until another Venom-brand cock ring gave it a second life. He was completely aroused, uncomfortable at the same time, with Anne staring on in horror.

“Eddie? Are you okay? What’s going on with you?” 

He didn’t answer her, couldn’t. The vibrations leveled him. He flopped his head on the table and just—rode out whatever fucked-up torture Venom was putting him through. Except it wasn’t torture at all. After a minute, the _weirdness_ he felt there faded away, and warmth—intense and immediate—washed over his whole body in waves. Pressure built up in his pelvis, spread like fire through his arms, legs. His fingers, his toes tingled.

The restaurant swirled around him. The sounds of glasses and silverware clinking, of Anne talking to someone on her phone—“… wrong with him, Dan. Hurry!”— the candlelight, the smell of cooked meat. They all blurred together. His body was so fucking tense, the vibrations making him feel so goddamn good he could scream.

—until he had the violent _need_ to piss his pants.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry for _everything_ ,” Eddie gasped. “Please… _don’t_.”

**Do you trust me, Eddie?**

His mind scattered with the question. An alien lived inside him rent-free, ate people’s heads clean off their bodies. Turned him into some… unspeakable monster and made him do incredible, inhuman _things_. Everything told him to say no, to stop this bullshit in its tracks. But all he could say, all he could ever _think_ to say was—

“Yes.”

His body pushed passed its habitual urges, and the vibrations strengthened. The need… the absolute, undeniable desperation to _come_ … 

“F- _fuck_.”

His orgasm tore his body apart, short-circuiting his arms and legs. He turned to jello, couldn’t take in enough breath to save his life. His brain spun. Mind, soul, body... completely fucking _drained_. It took a minute for his eyes to even focus, and when they did—

Faces staring at him. Eyes wide. Anne. The restaurant.

“Oh, shit.”

Eddie tried to stand but couldn’t get up. His legs wouldn’t work, his entire body shook. Trembled. He looked down at himself, the front of his pants wet with—he didn’t know what. He didn’t smell piss. It felt as if he’d come his soul out, but—was it? And nothing was keeping him in place. No black tendrils. His body just wouldn’t _work_.

Embarrassment flushed his face. People began to whisper.

Eddie grit his teeth. “Get me the fuck _out of here_.”

**I’m _trying_.**

“Well.” He smiled at Anne, like none of this fuckery had happened. “I should get going.”

Anne stared at him, her mouth dropping open.

“Lovely dinner. We should do it again sometime.”

Finally, he was able to stand up, move, and then _run_ out of the restaurant before Dan came—or better yet, the _cops_. The San Francisco air cooled his damp skin, pants. He was floating, content, utterly and completely relaxed—

—and not in control of his body.

He—no, _Venom_ —burst through the streets like a rabid animal. It was dark and alive with people. Venom pushed through them, knocking them aside, needing an escape from the lights, the sounds. He could feel Venom’s urges as intense as his own. He was hungry, but the need _to fuck_ overrode everything else. No, it wasn’t just fucking Venom wanted. It was the need to make Eddie realize that Eddie Brock belonged to _him_.

How far Venom ran, he didn’t know. And where they ended up, he didn’t know either. But wherever this was, a bar, maybe, it was in a dark alleyway marked with seductive red lighting. Inside, bodies gyrated, dancing close. Alcohol. Stale air. He darted through to the back, busted through a door. It smelled like come and piss. Two people moved against each other in the shadows. Whatever he roared jerked them away. They scrambled with clothes, left. He either walked into the stall or was thrown into it.

**Not done with you yet.**

All he knew next: he was face-first against the stall, pants down, a hulking mass crowding in behind him. And all he could think about was _yes, yes, yes_. He was in control again, body ready. Eddie huffed out a breath, whispered, “Come on. Come on.” He was aching to be fucked, completely wrecked. He pushed his face harder against the stall, spread his thighs wide, angled his ass up so it was impossible to ignore. Tendrils raced up his thighs, rolled over them possessively, then spread like greedy fingers over his ass, his hard dick, inside him, all around him—

“Fuck me, please.” He was breathless for it. Needy.

Desperate.

**Do you feel shame now, Eddie?**

A tongue snaked over his ear, his neck, and Eddie groaned, knocking his hips back to connect with the solid form behind him, rubbing up against the protrusion that’d promise to run him through. Two hands slammed around his head, framing it, while that tongue kept teasing him, tip grazing the shell of his ear. 

Eddie teased himself with just barely letting that protrusion breach his ass, sinking down on it before rising up off it completely. Just the tip of it inside him again, so fucking big he was going to shatter around it. Down again, so it sank deeper inside him, moving away so it’d slip out of him. Venom hovered over him, his tongue exploring, slipping in under his shirt to lick at a nipple, curl around it, lavishing it with attention, before moving to the next one. Not once taking advantage of him, doing everything but _not fucking him_.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Come on.” His throat was raw from need. “This is what you want, isn’t it? Take it.”

Eddie pressed his ass against Venom again, his own breathing erratic, his heartbeat wild in his chest. 

**Not like this.**

Something grabbed his hair and pulled it back, the pain making his spine bow, his hips arc up. He was on his tip-toes, chest and face pressed up against the stall. Hands pinned to the small of his back. Submissive.

**Like this.**

Venom thrust inside him in one devastating blow, filing him up completely. There was pain, pleasure and everything in between. He was spread wide until it hurt, until the thing inside him hit the very limits of his body. His neck, his spine—all of it hurt until it didn’t. Until pain melted away to ecstasy, until all he wanted was to be torn to shreds by Venom’s dick. Eddie panted out a noise: it was surrender, begging, gratitude.

**You’re mine, Eddie. Say it.**

“I’m yours. God, I’m yours. All of me. Fucking _ruin me_. _Please_.”

His first thrust slammed him into the stall, making him dizzy. But never before had he felt so goddamn complete or fulfilled. Venom fucked into him again, then again, and his body sang with it, a chorus of _finally_. Venom picked up a brutal, hard rhythm behind him: two hard, body-shaking thrusts followed by three short, quick ones. Over and over again, tearing him apart. Whatever shame he felt before, whatever doubts he’d had disappeared as Venom fucked him deep, shoving into him as far as Eddie’s body would let him. Taking, taking, until Eddie had nothing else to give. Venom used him, fucked his abused hole and milked every groan out of him. Eddie spread his thighs wider and arched his hips up to take every single inch of him. 

**Say it.**

“I’m yours. I’m yours.”

It was his mantra, whispering it to the stall as Venom pounded him, as pleasure mounted and threatened to spill over. He wanted to touch his hard, neglected cock and struggled against the inky restraints. But they wouldn’t budge, Venom wouldn’t let him move. He whined, but Venom kept fucking him unhindered. The wet sound of bodies slapping together was obscene. The noises he was making—they were primal, loud as fuck. Every one of them telling Venom that Eddie belonged to him, him, him.

Venom drew out long, then drove into him hard and deep, once, twice, before jackhammering him, devastating him with every fuck. Eddie pressed his head against the stall and closed his eyes, bracing himself. He was close. So fucking close. Just one more… two at most… so.. fucking…

Teeth sank into his neck, and like a firecracker, Eddie came untouched, Venom’s name on his lips as he howled with the pain and pleasure of it all. His body turned rubbery, his legs shook and threatened to fail him. In the air, he smelled alcohol, come, and copper—and something oozing down his neck. Dazed, he look down, and it was red. Blood. His own. Instead of shock, he laughed. An insane, terrifying sound.

**Never forget who you belong to, Eddie.**

“I won’t,” he whispered. A little exhausted chuckle. “I’m yours.”

**Mine.**

“Yours.”

Eddie stumbled out of the bathroom sometime later. The thumping music switched off. Dancing people stopped to stare at him. Dinner jacket, white shirt covered in blood. He beamed a smile at them, raised a hand like he was meeting old friends and said, “Wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

—and left with a limp to his step.

**Let's find someone to eat.**

Eddie smiled and hummed, more than eager to please him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
